The Times Jehan Said I Love You
by guineamania
Summary: Despite being the most romantic poet everyone knows, Jehan doesn't use the words "I love you" often. But it becomes more frequent as the boy he loves, loves him too. Modern AU for Almost an Actress
1. Chapter 1

_**17/4/13**_

**Hello guys! This is the fanfiction for the 100****th**** Reviewer of my other fanfiction Without My Apollo's Love – Almost an Actress! Sorry for the long wait but I have had some much on the go at the moment, hope you enjoy! This is a short little prologue chapter! The rest will be proper length I assure you!**

**The Times Jehan Said I Love You**

**Chapter 1 – "Courf … you're pissed mate!"**

The Café Musain was always a hive of activity late on a Saturday night, but usually the back room was calm and quieter. That Saturday in January was not one of those days. The back room as almost as loud as the main; that day was one of the days snow was falling outside so Grantaire had decided to camp out in the Musain instead. And he brought wine … lots of wine. Grantaire's apartment was in the dark parts of Paris and was a humiliation to house-kind. Holes littered the ceiling and so Grantaire often camped in the Musain overnight. The owners did not mind as long as he brought them something for their kindness. This was often wine. That was why the amis found themselves crowded round a table; Courfeyrac was challenging Grantaire and Bahorel to a drinking contest. Of course the two men could not turn down a challenge from a medium weight drinker like Courfeyrac.

Outside, snow fell from the sky in blustering torrents and the flakes ran circles round a small figure darting down the street. Jehan had got absorbed in a poem he was writing and had completely forgotten about the meeting. The wind increased in intensity as if it was trying to stop him from getting to the meeting. They had never had this much snow since he had moved to paris and it was already piled at least two feet high on either side of the road. "Blasted weather," Jehan moaned but finally the Musian was in sight. It felt like the lights from the windows where the gateways to heaven. The golden shimmer stood out against the monotone of the winter wonderland that was Paris. He ran even quicker now the end was in sight and practically feel in the front door. "Evening Jehan, atrocious out there ain't it?" the landlady sighed while smiling at him. Jehan smiled back as he shook off the snow and brushed the snow off his hair.

"Certainly is madame, but couldn't miss the meeting though," he chuckled and she laughed.

"They haven't started yet … Courfeyrac started a drinking contest," she explained and Jehan rolled his eyes with a smile before walking into the back room.

The landlady was right: Courfeyrac, Grantaire and Bahorel were all drunk out of their minds and continued to drink; Feuilly, Bosseut and Joly were all cheering them on, Enjolras was sat glaring at the proceedings and Combeferre was trying to confiscate the alcohol. Needless to say he was not succeeding in that aspect; taking Grantaire's alcohol was like trying to take someone's first born. Also when Courfeyrac got drunk then he was prone to cuddling whatever was closest, whether it was a wine bottle or an exceedingly grumpy Combeferre. Jehan sighed and sat next to Enjolras. "Sorry I'm late Enj," he smiled and Enjolras sighed.

"We haven't got anything done anyway," he groaned with a little pout.

"You know nothing is going to get done on days Grantaire brings copious levels alcohol. Don't get down about it!" Jehan smiled hugging Enjolras. He stiffened at the contact but softened slightly as it was Jehan.

"Thanks Jehan," he smiled slightly and Jehan let go.

"Anytime! A hug always makes it better," he giggled jumping up and bouncing over to the table where Courfeyrac drinking and trying to get Combeferre to hug him and take him home.

Courfeyrac was such a big baby when drunk. All he wanted was hugs and someone to take him home and tuck him into bed. Jehan often volunteered to take Courfeyrac home when he was like this. It was no secret that Jehan had a crush on Courfeyrac that rivalled Grantaire's obsession with Enjolras; but Courfeyrac was completely oblivious. He loved the hugs and kisses Courfeyrac gave when he was drunk and savoured every moment he could get with his crush. "Come on Robin, home time," Jehan stated, prising the almost empty bottle out of Courfeyrac's iron grasp. As soon as the bottle was out of his trembling hands his arms were wrapped round Jehan's neck. Jehan sunk into his embrace while searching for the keys to Courfeyrac's car. There was no way on this earth he was carrying Courfeyrac home; it nearly broke his back last time. Eventually, Jehan found them and managed to pick Courfeyrac up as he nestled himself into Jehan's oversized jumper. Courfeyrac buried himself into the woollen fabric and strangely started purring like a happy kitten. Jehan just chuckled unfazed by his friend's strange behaviour. "Courf … you're pissed mate!" Grantaire shouted and the room erupted in laughter. Jehan chuckled rolling his eyes and carried him out into the storm.


	2. Chapter 2

_**26/4/13**_

**Thanks for the support for this fic. It has been fun writing but I am afraid updates will be slower over the next seven weeks because of my GCSE exams.**

Almost an Actress – You better like it! I am writing it for you hehe

Phoenixflames12 – Thanks the characterisations are what I worry about the most and I am glad they worked well together

gleechick21 – Thanks a lot babes

**Chapter 2 – "I love you with all my heart you drunk idiot!"**

The white flakes clung to Jehan and coated his entire body in a light sheen of water. The snow settled on the pair and snowflakes got stuck on Jehan's eyelashes so he spent half of the walk blinking them off. Jehan struggled carrying the much larger man to the car and was glad Courfeyrac had driven to the meeting today instead of walked. The snow still fell in a torrent and the streets were deserted around them. Thankfully Jehan could still see vaguely where he was going and the car was up ahead. With a lot of struggling and grabbling with the bear like cuddler, Jehan worked the keys lose and wrestled Courfeyrac into the back of the car where he remained staring at the ceiling dozily. He jumped in the front set and chuckled at Courfeyrac's whining for his pillow to come back. "You're off home now Courf," he giggled but Courfeyrac's whining persisted. Jehan pulled off the curb and ventured in to the stormy unknown.

The snow caught Courfeyrac's little old car in its cold grasp and the flakes assaulted them from all sides. Jehan didn't know how much assault the old Citroen could take and hurried back to Courfeyrac's apartment. The drunkard in the backseat had finally been subdued by the beginnings of a migraine and the car drove with the silence only interrupted by the howling wind. Mercifully, the pair arrived at Courfeyrac's inner city apartment without the car collapsing on them; although the creaking did not reassure Jehan that they would get back in one piece. Courfeyrac was in an uneasy sleep which made it so much easier to carry him into the one bedroom flat. However, the peace did not last long; they made their way up the stairs and shouting echoed off the walls. Courfeyrac woke of suddenly and nearly sent them both off down the stairs backwards. "Jehan, what are you doing in my bed?" Courfeyrac asked confused.

"I'm not in your bed Courf," Jehan sighed, holding in a little smile.

"Jehan, why is my bed moving?" he asked, still as confused as before.

"Don't mind that Fey, just go to sleep," Jehan chuckled but the drunk man refused while in his delirious state.

"Sleep is boring Jehan," he argued and Jehan rolled his eyes with a smile as Courfeyrac began to play with one of the flowers in his hair.

It took a long time to clamber up the stairs. Courfeyrac's building had to be the only one in Paris with a lift operator then didn't allow drunks. Jehan unlocked the door and shook Courfeyrac off him onto the bed. As part of his usual drunk Courfeyrac routine, Jehan put a glass of water and a hangover cure by his bed while Courfeyrac tried to work out how to use a duvet. However, when he tried to move away from the bed to leave as he always did, Courfeyrac's hand grabbed him and pulled him backwards with a tug so he was sat on the bed. "Stay with me, Jehan," Courfeyrac murmured as the headache returned with a vengeance.

"I have to be getting home Fey," Jehan sighed, in his heart he would love to stay with Courfeyrac but that could never end well. He would end up blurting out his love out or would say something stupid to embarrass himself and ruin their friendship.

"Not in snow," Courfeyrac muttered while waving his hand in the general direction of the window. Jehan had to admit that Courfeyrac was right; there was no way he could get home in this weather. The snow has increased its intensity and he could not see anything through the white screen.

"Ok but I will be out of your hair at the crack of dawn," Jehan conceded and Courfeyrac beamed in victory.

Jehan stood up to make both boys a pure black coffee; to warm himself up and in a vain attempt to sober Courfeyrac up. Courfeyrac took the cup and surprisingly didn't spill any of the scolding hot liquid on himself. Jehan stole a pillow and settled on Courfeyrac's couch before whining arose from the bed. "Jehan," he sulked and lifted the covers. The rate of Jehan's rate speed dramatically and his breath was caught in his throat. To say he had dreamed of a moment would be a mass understatement; he had wanted to be close to Courfeyrac since they had first talked to each other but never had the courage. His heart pulsed erratically but his head told him no; it told him not to be stupid and Courfeyrac was only doing this because he was drunk. Of course, being a poet, his heart won over and he slid under the duvet with his one true love. The warmth instantly comforted his trembling frame and he felt a burning desire to snuggle closer to Courfeyrac but his head kept him in check. However in his drunken state, Courfeyrac's mind could not keep him in check and the larger man wrapped himself round Jehan. "Don't leave me Jehan," he whispered while resting his head on Jehan's thin chest.

"I won't," Jehan promised and was grinning with glee.

"You will because you don't love me," he huffed and Jehan sighed. He could not hold back the urge no matter how much his mind screeched at him.

"I love you with all my heart you drunk idiot!" he shouted and kissed Courfeyrac passionately on the lips.

Courfeyrac was tense against his lips to begin with but quickly softened and pushed back as well. A warmth spread in his chest and the pressure of his secret with instantly lifted. "I love you too my little poet," Courfeyrac grinned and leant on Jehan's shoulder. Within minutes he was fast asleep and Jehan was left with his happy thoughts and the warmth of his lover next to him.


	3. Chapter 3

_**6/5/13**_

**Thanks for the support this ff has gained and I am glad people enjoy reading it!**

Pheonixflames12 – Thanks so much I am glad you enjoyed that chapter! Thanks for the moral support urg there is just so much work to be done. 13 exams in 4 weeks; that's just not right!

Almost An Actress – I am guessing the cuddling met your expectations

Juliet116 – Courfeyrac does remember and all is fine! Thanks for your review

Strawberrybear – please don't die … I like my reviewers

**From now on it will not have that much continuity between chapters: I am just writing as the cute fluff comes to me and they are more likes to be shorter drabbles of adorableness **

**This chapter is dedicated to Gavroche T as a replacement for a J/C one shot I should be writing her! **

**Chapter 3 – "A little ball of fluff and happiness!"**

"Jehan, I'm home baby," Courfeyrac shouted while the discarded his stuff all over the entrance to their flat.

"Tidy up!" Jehan shouted and Courfeyrac replied with a roll of his eyes before picking all his stuff up and putting it in its appropriate places.

"I don't know why you insist on everything being so clean Jean," he shouted walking into their open plan living area.

"Because if I let you dump your stuff everywhere we will not be able to walk round the flat," Jehan argued and Courfeyrac had to agree. Jehan was sat cross legged in the centre of their second hand settee with pens and paper scattered around him; it was like a felt tip rainbow had exploded in their apartment. Courfeyrac stepped further in to the room cradling a medium sized box in his arms. "What happened in here?" he exclaimed while gesturing to the colour explosion. Pieces of paper were pinned to every wall with scribbles of poetry in multicolours scattered across them.

"I have a publishing deal … I need twenty new poems by the end of the week," Jehan smiled and Courfeyrac's grin grew even wider.

"That is wonderful," Courfeyrac exclaimed, hugging his boyfriend with one arm and holding the box in his other. "And it makes my present all the better," he chuckled and Jehan's eyes brightened.

"Present, what present?" he giggled, clapping eagerly. Courfeyrac gently passed him the mysterious box.

Jehan sat it on his knee and grinned as he pulled the tape off the top. Inside sat a little baby kitten. It had thick black fluff with four little white socks. His nose was a pure white that ran like paint down the front of his neck and settled as a pool on his belly. He sat curled up in the base of the box and started mewing at the grinning Jehan. "Robin … he is the cutest thing ever!" Jehan exclaimed slowly lifting the baby cat from the box and snuggling it to his chest. The kitten purred and buried himself in the neck of Jehan's overly large jumper. "Does he have a name?" Jehan asked with a giggle as the tiny whiskers tickled his neck.

"Nope you can name him whatever you want," Courfeyrac grinned. Jehan stared at the tiny cat and tickled him while he purred.

"Mozart," Jehan giggled.

"Mozart?" Courfeyrac asked and Jehan blushed.

"My old cat toy was called Mozart," Jehan murmured and Courfeyrac burst out laughing.

"That is adorable," he giggled, leaning in to kiss Jehan while avoiding the kitten that had taken up residence on the poet's neck.

"He seems to like me," Jehan grinned tickling the top of Mozart's head. The cat replied with an affectionate purr.

"Of course he does! It's a little ball of fluff and happiness and you practically radiate happiness," Courfeyrac chuckled and Jehan laughed.

"I love you," Jehan whispered kissing him but they were interrupted by impatient meowing, "Love you too Mozart!"


	4. Chapter 4

_**23/5/13**_

**Sorry for the long wait! Without My Apollo's Love has been my entire focus lately and I am in the middle of a very stressful exam period so updates are sparse!**

J91 – Glad you think so!

gleechick21 – Thanks, that is the intention

Gavroche T - :D Yay

PhoenixGirl97 – Sorry for the wait!

Phoenixflames12 – Thanks … :( I hate the GCSE monsters

Almost an Actress – aww that he is!

Justme – I know … I could not resist kittens, he will be a key character now

**Chapter 4 – "No kittens in the kitchen!"**

The kitchen was a disaster zone. Courfeyrac had come home to find Jehan and Mozart in the middle of a flour explosion. Cocoa powder, sugar and flour covered every single space available in the little kitchen; including the previously black and white kitten. Mozart was coating in flour, not a patch of black fluff showed though. But at least he seemed to be enjoying himself with purrs and meows echoing through the kitchen. "No kittens in the kitchen Jeah," Courfeyrac shouted from the doorway; both boy and kitten seemed to look at his with the combined power of pouting. "I do not want kitten germs in my food," he argued but the adorableness was too powerful.

"I washed him before we started," Jehan mumbled and Courfeyrac accepted defeat, just grabbing a beer and lying on the settee watching through the swinging door. It was better than anything he would be able to find on the TV.

Jehan was bouncing though the mess in the kitchen, trying to find the ingredients he needed to make the brownies he had originally set out to make. They had enough of everything when he started but then the ball of fluff with claws had got involved. And even though watching Mozart squealing and sniffling when he tipped a bowl of flour was the more adorable thing ever to have happened, it meant he had only just got back from the shops when Courfeyrac had torn through the apartment in a whirlwind as he always did. They had been going out for a month now and thankfully they had got used to each other's regular eccentricities. The first few weeks of living with each other had been hard; but they were in love and that was all that mattered. Dancing Queen by ABBA blasted throughout their apartment while the brownies baked slowly in the oven with the little kitten warming himself in front of it.

Courfeyrac had the football on the tv but it was overshadowed by the music. Commentary was over rated anyway, why listen to pundits when you can listen to ABBA featuring Jean Prouvaire. It was FC Lorient versus Paris Saint-Germain but Saint-Germain were already way ahead in the table. That meant that watching his boyfriend and a kitten cook brownies was very high on his list of priorities; second actually, just below a beer. He had got in from a long day and this form of light entertainment was just what he needed. Jehan was now trying to wash a rebellious kitten in the sink; needless to say, Mozart was having none of it. Now along with the flour, sugar and cocoa powder coving the floor, there were tiny wet paw prints everywhere. Jehan was wrestling will the little fluff ball and unsurprisingly, thhe kitten was winning. He was like Puss In Boots from Shrek; one little look with those big pleading eyes then you were putty in his little paws. That manipulating creature. The tip of the iceberg was the most adorable noise ever to have existed; Mozart sneezed. The noise of a kitten sneezing, if you have never heard it, is one of those noises that will make everything stop and everyone go awww. The dust assault must have got to him as he sneezed about three times on the trot. However the kitten sneezing fit had distracted Mozart for long enough that Jehan had snuck up behind him and had now managed to push him for a bath in the sink.

Jehan walked into the living room soon after; he was sopping wet, holding a tray of brownies, and being followed by a very disgruntled wet kitten. To anyone else this would be a strange sight. Courfeyrac just shrugged it off and wrapped his boyfriend in a hug and grabbed a brownie. "That kitten is a menace," Jehan sighed with a smile.

"But an adorable one," Courfeyrac added as the kitten in question curled up on top of the radiator.

"Thank you for buying him Robin … I love you," Jehan whispered kissing Courfeyrac's cheek as his mouth was preoccupied with a brownie.


	5. Chapter 5

_**12/6/13**_

**Sorry for the wait again but I am short of ideas for this at the moment **

J91 – Thanks, kittens are certainly adorable. Yeah, I have a beta now so mistakes should be sorted!

Almost an Actress – Glad you enjoyed it! No problems about using the names, happy you think they are fitting

Phoenixflames12 – Thanks, I worry about the characterisations; so happy they are accurate

gleechick21 – Thanks for the support ;)

**There is a poll on my account: I have written a particually gruesome Les Mis fanfic and am wondering if it worth posting … so please respond even if your answer is no! Or tell me in your reviews if you would like me to put it up.**

**Chapter 5 – "The Little Poet's Inevitable Breakdown"**

Jehan hated hospitals. They were always too clean and white; Jehan was a being that thrived on colour and vivid patterns. To him, white was a non-colour, just the absence of everything. However, there was only panic on his mind as he ran through the halls. Well, panic and Courfeyrac. When he got the call, his world stopped. Time froze in place and the phone clattered from his ear onto the cold hard tiles. Courfeyrac had been a victim of a hit and run. He had just been walking home from work when the car hit him. Jehan choked back on a sobs as he thought about the accident. He had only been in a relationship with Courfeyrac for two short months; yet already they were being torn apart and in such a cruel way. He ran though the silent corridors, ignoring the shouts for him to slow down and walk. Walking wasted time; time he did not have.

He skidded into the emergency waiting room and nearly collided with a doctor. "Are you family of Monsieur de Courfeyrac?" the doctor asked as Jehan tried to collect himself. Jehan nodded frantically with his head bobbing up and down like a speedy nodding dog.

"How is he? What happened? When can I see him?" Jehan asked in a panicked flurry of words.

"Monsieur de Courfeyrac is currently in surgery," the doctor began but was interrupted by a pained cry from Jehan. "We believe he will pull through but only time will tell. He came in with a fractured skull, broken leg and a couple of broken ribs along with severe internal bleeding. You will be able to see him once he is settled on ICU," the doctor explained as he passed Jehan a clipboard into his trembling hands. "I need you to fill in details about Monsieur de Courfeyrac for us to be able to take care of him," the doctor stated calmingly and softly to the sobbing young man. Jehan settled in one of the chairs and wiped away his tears as he filled in the sheet with all information about his fading boyfriend.

Slowly the rest of the Amis filtered in and tried to delay the little poet's inevitable breakdown. Jehan was staring off into the distance as if he was entranced while Grantaire wrapped his arm round their little flower. Combeferre and Joly continued to pester the doctors for some form of news or a copy of the full medical analysis of their friend; and the poor nurse was not getting away anytime soon. Enjolras paced like he always did when things went wrong and Feuilly, Bossuet and Bahorel were all sat silently in an enclosed corner. The only noise that could be heard was Cosette's attempt at silent sobs onto Marius' shoulder. She had become a close member of their group the past month or so and her heart was so sweet and full. Marius actually suited her quite well. Jehan's mind was consumed with thought of what could be happening to his Courfeyrac; even the soft, nimble massaging of Grantaire's trembling fingers could not sooth his tensed nerves. "Enjolras! Please sit down baby," Grantaire pleaded, fed up of watching his boyfriend wear a hole through the carpet. Enjolras let out and deep sigh before collapsing into a seat next to Grantaire and resting his mop of blonde curls on Grantaire's overwrought shoulder.

Now Grantaire had both his boys to deal with; his best friend on one side and his boyfriend on the other. Enjolras was thankfully asleep on his shoulder and clutching on to the drunkard's left hand. Grantaire was trembling and flagging slightly; he needed a drink, but he was not getting drunk in a situation like this. And if he moved Enjolras would wake up; it was hard enough getting that man to sleep anyway. Jehan was still sat like a statue until Joly returned hurriedly with a doctor. "He is settled in ICU, one of you can come visit him quickly," the doctor stated and Jehan just sat gawping at him until Grantaire pushed their youngest member to his feet and towards the door. Somehow Enjolras had slept like a log throughout the whole ordeal; Grantaire had no idea how he did it. For a man that never slept, he certainly slept deep.

Jehan forced himself not to sprint to his boyfriend's room and stay fidgeting behind the doctor. He waited outside Courfeyrac's room until he was allowed to be by the love of his life. Jehan let out a little sob at the sight of Courfeyrac's frail form. The young poet collapsed into the seat next to him and let out the loud sobs he had been holding in. He couldn't stand to see his lover, who was usually so full of light, cast in darkness and plugged into life support. It crushed him inside. So many tubes that seemed to be a barrier between the two of them. "Please wake up, 'Fey … I love you," he sobbed in desperation, holding Courfeyrac's hand.


	6. Chapter 6

_**6/7/13**_

**Sorry for the long wait guys! Urg, I have been so busy lately! **

**I am now doing Camp NaNoWriMo so updates will be slower on all my fics and my aunt is sort of dying so I'm going through hard times at the moment … updates will be few until I am back to my normal self.**

**Chapter 6**

Jehan drifted in and out of sleep. He didn't want to sleep while anything could still happen to Courfeyrac. He needed his 'Fey to wake up now; his little heart could not take much more of this wait. Every moment his mind flashed with images of their days together and he felt on the verge of tears once again. Grantaire had been like a rock in these troubled times. His best friend was all you could need in a disaster; he was cool, collected and soft. The complete opposite to how he was in normal life. Some people broke down and crumbled into rubble in an earthquake, like Jehan; but some people stood tall even if their foundations were trembling, like Grantaire. All the other Amis had gone home but Jehan refused to leave Courfeyrac and Grantaire refused to leave Jehan in this weak state. Grantaire was currently fast asleep, cuddling close to Jehan's slender feminine form as if Jehan would blow away if he let go of his arm. Jehan didn't trust himself not to blow away if Grantaire let go of him.

It was hours of this dreadful limbo state before the world kick-started once again. The machines began to bleep and both men jumped awake. Courfeyrac was struggling on the bed and Jehan was instantly at his lover's side. Grantaire, for once being the rational one in this situation, pressed the emergency button and people almost instantly flooded in to help save their friend. The sober drunkard prised Jehan away and cradled the young poet in his shaking arms. However, Grantaire then buried his head in Jehan's hair unable to watch what was happening in front of his eyes. Both men were ushered out of the room back onto those painful waiting room chairs that lingered in the corridor. Jehan was sobbing once again and Grantaire could feel his own resolve starting to waver. He needed a drink but he really needed to be sober; the inner turmoil was painful and was taking its toll on his body. His usually slender frame was shrinking by the day and his skin fading from its usual slightly tanned complexion to a shade white as Courfeyrac's. Grantaire closed his eyes with a sigh as Jehan continued to cry.

It was hours before the two men were let back into Courfeyrac's hospital room, this time with good news for them. Courfeyrac was awake and coherent. He was still incredibly tired and fragile but for once his friends could see him healing. Jehan was overjoyed and the only thing that stopped his pouncing on his boyfriend was the grip Grantaire had on the little poet's shoulder. Jehan nodded thankfully at Grantaire. He sat down timidly next to his boyfriend and Grantaire gave them their space. "My baby," Jehan whispered with tears in his eyes as he brushed Courfeyrac's hair behind his ear tenderly.

"My poet," Courfeyrac smiled weakly leaning up to kiss Jehan. Jehan took the time to examine all Courfeyrac's injuries. Fortunately they were not too serious; it was the head injury that had caused this all. But as well as that his right leg had a nasty break and his whole right arm was battered and bruised.

"Never do this to me again alright?" Jehan begged with tears streaming down his face.

"I won't Jean, I promise," Courfeyrac nodded, sitting up. He gave a little nod to Grantaire who was still leaning in the doorway. Grantaire frowned then shook his head in response. Jehan's head darted between the two of them with confusion etched on his features. Eventually after a few moments of this nonverbal communication, it seemed like Courfeyrac had won. Grantaire sighed with an exaggerated eye roll before kneeling next to Courfeyrac's bed and hurriedly passing him some object. Grantaire retreated away again; Jehan was growing ever more confused by the second.

"Robin, darling? What's going on?" he asked his injured lover.

"There's something I have been meaning to ask you for a while, my Jehan," Courfeyrac smiled, holding Jehan's trembling hand. "And when I thought I was never going to see you again it made it all the more urgent to say," he added, and started massaging the top of Jehan's hand. Courfeyrac pulled out a golden ring in a black velvet box, "Jean Prouvaire … will you marry me?"


	7. Chapter 7

_**5/8/13**_

**Sorry for the long wait but here it is! **

**Also I am writing a novel! I am currently doing the first draft so it will take a while to do but if any of you wanna help me out and read over things, give me advice, e.t.c then PM me or put it in your review on here!**

**Chapter 7 – "Together always"**

Jehan froze in pure shock and Courfeyrac looked at the floor. It was too soon; what was he thinking proposing now? Jehan was going to say no and he would lose the love of his life; he knew it. "Yes," Jehan whispered, Courfeyrac was sure he was imagining it. His head snapped up with a hesitant smile as Jehan repeated it with more certainty. Courfeyrac gently slid the ring onto his lover's finger. They threw themselves on each other and kissed passionately; to engrossed in each other to notice Grantaire stuttering excuses and fleeing the room. Everything was coming together; but they would be together always.

"Don't you worry, 'Fey," Grantaire grinned, patting Courfeyrac on the back.

"Are you sure you are qualified to plan a wedding?" he asked cautiously. Courfeyrac had a wedding planner on call and was texting her after Jehan said yes. That phone ended up in the corner and Grantaire proclaiming that he had everything under control and he would plan the wedding. Jehan had always said that he wanted a traditional wedding but all wedding planners said that getting a priest and doing a full wedding for a homosexual couple would be too hard. But Grantaire was not fazed and promised them both the best day of their lives.

"I am not qualified but I do know what I am doing. Jehan trusts me," Grantaire sulked with a little kitten sniffle that was obviously a guilt trip. But he fell for it.

"Okay, okay," he conceded and sighed as Grantaire's grin returned and he almost skipped out of the Café Musain, only stopping to kiss his boyfriend on the head. Courfeyrac stood looking at the door that Grantaire had just bounced out of in shock and confusion; it was as if Grantaire had changed to the opposite of everything he was.

Enjolras appeared next to Courfeyrac when he was still staring in awe at where Grantaire was just stood. He snapped out of it when Enjolras rested his hand on one of his best friend's shoulder. "It's doing him good," Enjolras stated bluntly. "You letting him plan and organise this," he added at Courfeyrac's bemused expression.

"How so?" Courfeyrac asked when they both sat down at a table. He had noticed that the drunkard was generally happier but he had been like that ever since he started dating Enjolras.

"He's drinking less, smoking less, and cares about something once again," Enjolras smiled, Courfeyrac did realise that all the way through that conversation there was no overwhelming smell of cigars and alcohol radiating from the drunk.

"I guess, I just hope it comes out alright," Courfeyrac confessed to one of his longest friends.

"It will Courf," Enjolras promised. "And as an afterthought, Grantaire may end you if he can't be your best man. He's already planning the bachelor party," Enjolras added and Courfeyrac burst out laughing; he hadn't laughed like that in a long time.

"He will be my best man but I thought Jehan had already asked Grantaire to give him away," Courfeyrac chuckled.

"He is determined to do both; it is possible," Enjolras reassured him when Courfeyrac paled slightly.

"I really hope he knows what he is doing," Courfeyrac mumbled.

XXX

"Jehan, my little poet," Grantaire smiled stood with a clipboard and a pen behind his ear. "Cosette, Carissa, Eppy and 'Chetta are taking you out to a spa and meal today," Grantaire informed him as the girls swarmed on the honorary 'bride'. Jehan giggled and the girl-talk was in full swing before they had even left the apartment. Carissa was Combeferre's little five year old sister and was in love with Jehan, and dresses; no one could say no to her being a bridesmaid.

"And Courfeyrac, my dearest friend," Grantaire began with a flourish, leaning on Courfeyrac's shoulder. "As your amazing best man, I have a plan," he stated, waving the clipboard dramatically in from of him. "We are going on a pub run," he grinned and Courfeyrac found himself smiling along.

When Grantaire said pub run, he meant pub run. It was midday and Courfeyrac was almost drunk out of his mind and they still had twelve hours left. The drunkard never did anything by halves. All the boys were there: Bahorel already had scraped knuckles and bruises from at least one bar fight he probably started, Feuilly was past drunk and was flirting with the bar maid, Bossuet and Joly were entangled with each other and talking about something or other, Combeferre was tipsy and playing cards with some other student. Courfeyrac found himself sat with Enjolras and Grantaire as the smaller drunkard was settled on his boyfriend's lap as he played dominoes with Courfeyrac. Grantaire had forced Enjolras into having at least one drink in each bar and by the fourth he was thoroughly tipsy. Grantaire was right, this was just what he needed to calm his nerves about the wedding. Bring on the next twelve bars.

On the other hand, Jehan's day was also perfect; but was having a day the complete opposite of 'the boys'. That night he was curled up in his apartment (Courfeyrac was staying at Grantaire and Enjolras' apartment until after the wedding) in a plush pink blanket. Cosette was sat on the settee with Carissa curled up in her lap. Musichetta was making them all hot chocolate and Eponine was laid on Jehan's lap as he braided her ebony hair. Mean Girls was playing in the background and Musichetta was still teasing Cosette that Karen looked so much like her. It was peaceful and serene; the opposite of what married life with Courfeyrac would be. Both men drifted to sleep in completely different situations, but both their minds were on what the next day would hold.


	8. Chapter 8

_**4/9/13**_

**EDIT! This is it. This fanfiction has come to its natural conclusion. So long my friends and thank you for reading**

**P.S – I am now on FictonPress to put my novel attempt up. Search guineamania to find me! It would mean the world if people would help me improve it.**

**Chapter 8 – "The Biggest Day of your lives!"**

"Courfeyrac, it is time!" Grantaire declared, kicking the door open. Courfeyrac threw a pillow at Grantaire and buried his head in another one with a moan. His head was pounding like an overused drum and the bright light pouring in from the open doorway was burning his skull. Grantaire skilfully dodged the flying pillow with ease and slid into the room further. "It is your wedding day!" Grantaire exclaimed in an infuriatingly happy tone of voice, "the biggest day of your lives!" Courfeyrac moaned again but opened his eyes slowly.

"How, are you so…sober?" Courfeyrac panted as the room rocked like a troubled sea. Grantaire grinned and pulled the pillow away from Courfeyrac's head.

"Enjolras cut me off at pub seven and I had strictly non-alcoholic beverages," he chuckled, passing his immobile friend painkillers and a glass of water. "And I always held it better than you," he chuckled slapping Courfeyrac on the back. Courfeyrac groaned again but downed the pills and water hurriedly. This headache better had be gone by the wedding.

"Next time, that you tell me, it is a good idea to go on a twenty hour pub run, before the biggest day of my life…just don't," Courfeyrac slowly snarled at an enthusiastic Grantaire. A cup of coffee was thrust into his hands and his body pushed ungraciously out of the bed. "But yet you know exactly what I need after the aforementioned pub run...I don't know whether to kill you or kiss you," Courfeyrac sighed, attempting to rub the weariness out of his eyes.

"Save the kissing for later, lover boy!" Grantaire shouted as he fled into the bathroom, narrowly avoiding another flying pillow.

It didn't take long before Courfeyrac's headache was vanquished and in its place was a giddy excitement for the day ahead. "Nearly time Courfey," Grantaire smiled and carefully passed Courfeyrac his suit with a small bow. The colour theme for the wedding was pink, white and black so Courfeyrac was wearing a black suit jacket, black suit trousers with a white shirt, dark pink waistcoat and a baby pink tie. A flower of coral honeysuckle sat in his button hole. Grantaire had an identical suit and Courfeyrac did have to admit that his best friend did clean up nice when it was needed. Enjolras arrived when they were both nearly ready in his own suit. After confirming all the preparations and Grantaire had remembered his speech, and brushing the last remains of paint out of his lover's hair, Enjolras took them both to the car. Courfeyrac was shaking he was so nervous; his mind raced with all the things that could possibly go wrong with the day. "Don't worry Courf, all will be perfect. I promised you a fantastic traditional wedding and that I have provided. Nothing you do will make this day any less special. Enjoy yourself," Grantaire smiled, holding his best friend's leg for comfort.

"You can be very poetic when sober 'Taire," Courfeyrac stated with a small smile but Grantaire's speech did make him feel more confident. Enjolras pulled up and Grantaire stepped out with Courfeyrac.

"I have to go with Jehan, but I will be right there with you all the way through," Grantaire smiled, gently squeezing Courfeyrac in a manly hug.

Courfeyrac stood trembling by the altar as he waited for Jehan and Grantaire to arrive. Enjolras, Combeferre, Bahorel, Feuilly, Bossuet, Marius and Joly all sat on the front row behind him and they brought a soft comfort to his fluttering heart. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply in a vain attempt to calm him down. Enjolras squeezed Courfeyrac's leg slightly to reassure his friend. Courfeyrac smiled back slightly; then the music began. Courfeyrac suddenly froze in fear while the doors swung open. Jehan and Grantaire stood linked arms in the doorway. All their friends and family stood as Jehan walked down the aisle but all he could see was his husband to be. Jehan was dressed in a similar black suit with the same flower but he was wearing a baby pink shirt and a white tie. His ginger hair was twisted in an intricate braid with flowers and diamante beads woven into it. He looked stunning. Courfeyrac felt a smile spreading across his face as Grantaire whispered something in Jehan's ear that caused the younger boy to giggle. Grantaire had surprised everyone with this wedding; he had got a priest that was sympathetic to their beliefs and had somehow managed to create a perfect traditional wedding for his two best friends. Jehan reached the front and stood next to him with a grin plastered over his face. Courfeyrac couldn't stop himself grinning at Jehan; it was almost time; they were almost there. Grantaire gave Jehan away and then moved to stand next to Courfeyrac, the ring box obvious in his pocket. Cosette and Grantaire shared a small smile as the music died down.

The priest cleared his throat and began the service. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this man in Holy Matrimony; which is an honourable estate, instituted of God himself, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church; which holy estate Christ adorned and beautified with his presence, and first miracle that he wrought, in Cana of Galilee, and is commended in Holy Writ to be honourable among all men; and therefore is not by any to be enterprised, nor taken in hand, unadvisedly, lightly, or wantonly; but reverently, discreetly, soberly, and in the fear of God, duly considering the causes for which Matrimony was ordained," he declared and Jehan's smile grew. Grantaire had certainly fulfilled their wishes. "Therefore if any man can show any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace," the priest continued and thankfully the whole church stayed silent, more likely because Grantaire would kill anyone that dared open their mouth at this stage. The priest turned to Courfeyrac and his smile grew even wider. "Robin de Courfeyrac, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?" the priest asked calmly and Courfeyrac started shaking once again.

"I will," he stuttered with a beaming grin. The priest then turned to Jehan.

"Jean Prouvaire, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?" he asked even though the whole room knew the answer the poet would give.

"I will," Jehan practically squealed. The priest instructed Courfeyrac to take Jehan's right hand in his right hand and started to vows.

"I, Robin de Courfeyrac, take thee, Jean Prouvaire, to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth," Courfeyrac recited word for word, thankfully not stammering or messing it up like he feared he would. Jehan took Courfeyrac's right hand in his for the reverse. Courfeyrac was entirely focused on Jehan and tuned the world out. He hardly heard Jehan speak he was so nervous and excited all at once. He was completely blanked out until he felt Grantaire press the wedding ring into his palm. The wedding rings they had chosen were nine carrot yellow gold rings with diamonds set inside. He calmly pressed the ring onto Jehan's ring with trembling hands. He examined Jehan's engagement ring which Grantaire had expertly helped him pick, that man was full of surprises. It was a similar coloured band that was two straps interlocking with diamonds and sapphires arranged like a flower. It was perfect for Jehan. Jehan pushed the cold metal onto Courfeyrac's finger and attempted to steady his lover's hands. "Forasmuch as Robin de Courfeyrac and Jean Prouvaire have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a ring, and by joining of hands; I pronounce that they be husbands together, In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen," the priest announced and Courfeyrac barely held himself back from jumping Jehan. "You may now kiss the groom," the friendly priest chuckled and Jehan leapt onto Courfeyrac. When they kissed nothing else mattered; he knew all the other visitors had applauded them but that didn't matter. Jehan broke away and rested his forehead on Courfeyrac's. "Together forever M. de Courfeyrac," he whispered and Courfeyrac pulled him in for another kiss. "That is true M. de Courfeyrac," Courfeyrac chuckled.

**A/N – If anyone is interested here are the rings I used for this**

**Engagment ring ****- **www. hsamuel . co . uk / webstore / d / 8957584 / 9ct + yellow + gold + diamond +% 26 + sapphire + ring / (no spaces obviously)

**Wedding Ring** - www. hsamuel . co . uk / webstore / d / 9958762 / 9ct + yellow + diamond + set + ring / (no spaces)


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